Picture's Worth a Thousand Nerds
by lunasgathering39
Summary: Dean finds a lusty co-ed online that looks very familiar. Chapter 3 now up. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: For those reading "Final Betrayal," I promise I haven't abandoned it. Between friend drama, farm trauma, and all kinds of "middle school" work drama I haven't been able to get my mind to work out the ending to my satisfaction. I will post it as soon as I do. In the meantime, my brain wouldn't let go of this silliness. Enjoy!_

* * *

_Ok, no more Google image searches for me. Where the hell did that come from?_

Dean couldn't get the disturbing image he'd seen out of his head. Not even his busty asian beauties site could wipe it from his mind. It would haunt him for days to come. And until Sam got back with lunch he would have to keep wondering about it. He went back to their usual search locations to find a new gig, hoping that would be distraction enough. Unfortunately it wasn't. The picture was burned in his memory, torturing him. Twenty agonizing minutes later, Sam finally got back from the little deli down the street. He was barely in the door when Dean pounced.

"Dude, what the hell took you so long?"

"They had a line. It is the middle of the lunch rush. What's the big deal? You weren't even that hungry when I left."

"Whatever. Can we just eat already?" He knew he was overreacting, but couldn't stop himself. He was a bit freaked and didn't know how to fix it, how to clear the weirdness from his mind. A huff from Sam and his burger and fries tossed at him effectively stopped the talking temporarily. He still didn't know how to broach the subject without making things awkward.

Once they'd finished their meal, Dean figured the direct approach was the only way even if he was afraid of the answer. He went back to the laptop, pulled up the picture in question, and steeled himself for the coming conversation.

"Hey, Sam. Can I ask you something?"

"I don't know, can you?"

"Oh, don't start that crap again. Fine. _May_ I ask you something, you big nerd?"

"Sure, Dean. What is it?"

"That's exactly what I'd like to know." He turned the laptop so Sam could see what he'd pulled up. "What the HELL is this!?!" On the screen was a picture of Sam, stretched out on a black leather couch, shirtless, tousled hair, and a smoldering look in his eyes.

Barely missing a beat, the younger man laughed aloud. "Holy crap. I didn't know that was online. Where did you find it?"

"That's all you have to say? You didn't know it was online? What the hell is this?"

Obviously trying to hide a smirk and failing, he explained. "That was about 6 months after I met Jess. Her sorority was trying to raise money for a local charity and decided to make a calendar. I think I was Mr. May." He chuckled, seemed lost in thought for a moment, then continued his story. "I only agreed to do it because it paid fifty bucks. Well, and Jess begged me to. She bugged me for weeks. That isn't even the picture that made it to the calendar."

"Wait, you mean there are others like this?" Dean felt sick to his stomach. "You know if you needed money that bad, you could've called." At least he knew his brother hadn't resorted to anything worse to make money. They'd never been that desperate for cash.

"It wasn't that big a deal. I had a couple of unexpected expenses. Besides, they raised over three thousand dollars for a children's shelter from that calendar. I thought you'd be proud that it was sorority girls that wanted the picture."

"You do have a point there. But why are these online where anyone can find them? Can you imagine what Dad would've said if he'd seen them?" Though the more he thought about it, he realized he could have some fun with that picture. He couldn't wait to gross Bobby out with it. The older hunter would probably never let Sam live it down. He only hoped to never be surprised by the others like it.

"Who knows? What's the big deal? Wait, you didn't tell me how you found it."

"I was bored searching for another job and randomly searched sexy co-eds in Google images. I was several pages into the results when that one showed up. I thought I was going to be sick. I never want to go looking for hot girls and find a picture of my little brother. It just isn't right, Sam."

"Maybe that'll teach you not to go looking for porn on my computer."

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny, Sammy. How do you think you'd feel if the situation were reversed." _That wiped the smile off his face!_ "Exactly. It's disturbing."

* * *

A/N: If you haven't seen the photo that inspired this story, it is linked on my profile page as Sammy pic. It is a must see!


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Ok, here's the follow-up. Let me know if you'd like another chapter or if I should end it here. Enjoy!_

* * *

Sam entered the motel room ready to dig in. They'd found the lead they needed, cracked the case wide open. Which meant more research. Dean had dropped him off to start while he picked up lunch. While the laptop booted up, he tried to come up with the best search term to find the information he needed. Having thought of a few, he opened a browser window and began the search. He always started with Google and worked his way from there.

He opened his bottle of water and took a sip as the first results came up, which he promptly spit back up in a fit of laughter after seeing the image results for his search term. He'd never seen anything like the picture before him. He clicked on it to see where it was posted and maybe find out why. When it brought up another similar picture, he couldn't help but laugh out loud. He couldn't wait for Dean to get back with lunch. In the meantime, he'd get back to researching the case.

It only took 10 minutes of waiting impatiently, unable to focus on the case or much else. Sam tried desperately to keep a straight face as Dean handed him his club sandwich, chips, and soda. He failed about 30 seconds later and gave his brother a goofy grin.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, really. Just something I found online while researching our case."

"Sammy, nothing about this case is funny. The guy was dragged through town and strung up in the square. What is so funny about that?"

"It wasn't anything related to the case. It was some pictures that showed up in my search." Just thinking about the pictures cracked him up again.

"So what's so funny and why aren't you sharing?"

Sam started laughing again and said, "Because I don't think you'll find them as amusing. Though I am dying to know where they came from."

"Dude, you aren't making any sense. Just show me the pictures already."

"You sure?" Dean glared at him. "Ok, ok. But don't say I didn't warn you."

He pulled up the picture in question, turned the computer so his brother could see, and watched his brother's expression go from irritation to shocked and nauseous in no time. It wasn't quite the reaction he'd expected. He expected embarrassment and denial.

"Where the hell did these come from?"

"You don't know?"

"What do you mean? Of course I don't know. I wouldn't pose for pictures like this!"

"You don't have any idea? They look like they were taken while I was high school."

"Seriously, dude. I don't remem- oh, shit! Oh, that bitch is gonna pay!"

"Dean?"

"It was that town we stayed in for about three months in Georgia. I went out with this chick a few times, I think her name was Amy. Our last date is still a little fuzzy. Let's just say there was lots of Tequila involved. Damn, I wondered where that hat came from."

"Wait! That's the same hat you used when we handled that case at the rodeo. I wondered why you'd have a cowboy hat." Sam couldn't help but laugh again.

"Shut up, Sam! How the hell did these pictures come up in your research for this case?"

At that, Sam stopped laughing and inched towards the door to their room. He had no intention of being in hitting distance when Dean found out what search term he'd used. "Trust me, Dean. You don't want to know."

"Sam!"

With his hand on the door, he said, "Remember the reason the people killed Lance? Well, I searched a particular phrase and one of those pictures was in the image results."

"What phrase!?!"

Sam turned the doorknob and began sliding out the door. "I searched for gay cowboy." And he took off running.

* * *

A/N: If you haven't seen the photos that inspired this chapter, check out the link on my profile. It is a must see!


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Here's the end of the story. Hope you like it. _

* * *

They hadn't been at the bar long. Dean just finished his second beer. Sam still nursed his first. They'd finished the last case two days ago and were on their way to Bobby's. He needed help with some research and the Impala needed a tune-up. Before Dean could order another beer, the cute little waitress brought one saying it was from an admirer at the bar. Dean, curious since there weren't many prospects in the bar that night, looked up to see who sent the drink. He didn't see any girls, much less a hot one.

"Excuse me. Who sent the drink? I'd like to thank them."

"Oh, the one at the end of the bar, near the jukebox," she said as she pointed to what was now an empty seat. "Oh, they must've left."

Dean was about to get up to go find his admirer when a deep, sultry voice from behind said "How ya doin' cowboy?"

* * *

As the Impala pulled up in the Singer Salvage Yard, Dean said, "I swear, you breathe a word of truth about how we got like this, I will so kick your ass!" As he parked the car and turned off the ignition, he dabbed at the blood starting to flow again from the cut on his lip, a cut that was clotting until talking reopened the wound.

"You think Bobby will believe anything but the truth?" He saw Sam was trying not to laugh. He wanted to wipe the smirk right off his face. That would only make matters worse. And in their condition, neither could do much more damage to the other.

"Shut up, Sam. Just let me do the talking." Dean so didn't want to deal with joking from Bobby. Sam he could handle.

"What lie do you think he'll believe? He knows we weren't on a case."

He desperately wanted to smack his little brother upside the head, after all their current condition was mostly his fault. But the gash on Sam's head that was still bleeding a bit and the shiner on his left eye made him think twice. He didn't know if there were any internal injuries. Sam was as proficient as he was at hiding the pain.

They'd barely made it up the steps before the door opened. "You boys are early. Thought you were gonna stop for the night?"

Dean steeled himself for the yelling that would begin as soon as Bobby got a better look at them and answered, "We didn't feel like waiting. Figured it'd be easier to crash here and get started tomorrow." He could see the older man sizing up their condition.

"Yeah and the way you two look right now had nothing to do with. What the hell happened?"

Dean was trying to come up with a lie Bobby would believe and coming up with nothing. "You don't want to know." He heard a snicker from Sam's direction and gave him the look that said _let me handle this._

"Wouldn't have asked if I didn't. Now spill."

_Maybe if I tell him part of the truth he won't need the whole story._ Dean sighed and said, "Bar fight. Nothing big. Some dude got pissed over a simple misunderstanding and started throwing punches. Now can we drop it. I'm kinda tired."

"What was the misunderstanding?" Sam laughed out loud. He so wanted to hit him upside the head right now.

The truth was too painful, but apparently unavoidable. "Fine. Let him tell you. I need a beer."

* * *

_Several hours earlier_

Dean turned to respond to the masculine voice, not at all happy about it. "Can I help you?"

"You can thank me for the beer, for starters."

"The beer is from you? Sorry, I don't think I can accept. Here." He handed the drink back and tried to leave. Quickly.

"That's too bad. Maybe I have the wrong guy. You look just like this picture I found online."

Dean panicked, not sure how to get out of the situation. He could hear Sam snickering in the background and made a mental note to get even when they'd safely left the bar. "Yeah, you have the wrong guy. Sam, lets go. Now."

"Nah, I'm good here. Besides I haven't even finished my first beer."

_You are so dead little brother!_ "Then you'd better hurry up. We got someplace else we need to be."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize you two were together. My mistake."

"Yeah, we're to-" he started to say and realized the implication. "No, we're not together. We're just together."

"I see. You just have a problem with me." The raised voices started to attract a few onlookers.

"No! I don't. I just..." A punch came unexpectedly from behind and to his left. He'd had no time to react and it left his ears ringing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam wasn't quite as amused anymore as they had to defend themselves from at least four attackers.

* * *

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you we won the fight?" Dean only hoped that Bobby didn't make him regret

"Idjits. The both of you. You aren't seriously hurt and trying to hide it, are ya?"

"Nothing but my pride. I didn't even know the damn picture existed until Sam found it a week ago. I swear if I ever see the bitch that posted it again..." He expected jokes from Bobby. What he didn't expect was for Bobby to get up and leave the room without a word. He looked at Sam. Judging by the confused look on his face, he hadn't seen that coming either. They heard him rustling through papers then the footsteps that said he was returning, a manila folder in hand.

Without letting them see the contents, he pulled out a sheet of paper and asked, "You mean this one?" Sure enough, in his hands was a copy of one of the cowboy pictures.

"Why the hell do have a copy of that picture? And why didn't you tell me about!?!" Dean was torn. He knew there was a legitimate reason Bobby had the picture, but seeing it here, in his house was kind of creepy.

"You boys don't do a thing I don't know about. Before your dad took off on his own, he asked me to keep tabs on you, make sure you stayed out of trouble. Well, serious trouble. This was just carelessness on your part. And I'm willing to bet you did something to piss that girl off."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but what else do you have in there?"

"Mostly it's just newspaper clippings from cases you worked on, people you helped. I do have the occasional photo. This one of Sam made me a little uncomfortable. What on earth were you thinking there, Boy?" He showed them the calendar photo Dean recently found.

"Thank you, Bobby. I told you so! I never, ever want to search for sexy co-eds on online now thanks to you." He heard Bobby chuckling at that.

"Dean, I told you why I took that picture. It was for charity. And Jess begged incessantly until I gave in. At least it didn't earn me any boyfriends."

"Don't be so sure. Before we left, the guy that threw the first punch asked about you. I hope you don't mind that I gave him your e-mail address."

"Dean!"

"That's what you get for not wanting to leave before the fight started. If you hadn't sat back and laughed while I tried to let the guy down nicely, we'd be at another bar instead of here, bloody and bruised. No offense, Bobby."

"None taken. So, Dean. Care to explain this one?" Bobby held up another picture, another one Dean forgot about. However, that one he was quite proud of.

"That one was from a case. No, seriously. I was in New York to take care of an angry spirit in a photography studio. Dad was on a case of his own in Jersey and we planned to meet in upstate New York when he finished. It was a simple salt and burn, the old owner of the building had been murdered by his wife's lover. The activity started when they renovated the building."

"And how exactly does this picture fit into the case?"

"The photographer had an important shoot, but the ghost had scared away her model. She asked if I'd be willing to fill in. It was a paying gig and she was hot, so I said yes."

"What were you advertising in this picture? Footballs?"

"Actually it was for line of expensive towels, completely organic Egyptian cotton. The ad was supposed to go on a billboard in Times Square. Never found out if it did. I had to leave to meet Dad a couple of days later." Dean got up to get another beer, but was stopped halfway across the room.

"Dean, you never told me about this."

"It was while you were at Stanford. We weren't really sharing and caring back then, remember?"

"Oh, right."

Heading for the kitchen again, this time he was stopped by Bobby. "So, were they really nice towels?"

They all laughed at that and Dean said, "Yeah, you wouldn't believe how soft they were. Nothing like the crappy towels we get at our motels. Hey, either of you want a beer while I'm up?"

"Sure, kid. I'll come with you."

They'd barely stepped both feet into the kitchen, when a scream from Sam had them racing back.

"Dean!"

"Sam? What is it? What's wrong?" Looking at the expression on Sam's face, he saw disgust, not the fear he'd expected. "Sam. What is it?"

"Ugh. I think I'm going to be sick."

"What did you find in there?"

"See for yourself. I need a beer." Sam shoved a photo in his hand and fled the room quickly. He looked down and saw an 8x10 Glamourshots nightmare.

Dean no longer wanted the beer. He, like his brother, began feeling a little nauseous. _Man, that's ten times worse than the Sammy picture._ "Dad?"

* * *

A/N: The last Dean pic is linked on my profile. The other, you must use your imagination for that one 'cause I'm not going to find it. Blech!


End file.
